


Blood and Tears: The Crying Lady. A romantic Hunter x Hunter fanfiction

by KimSnowyowl92



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Angst, Angst and Romance, Assassination, Assassins & Hitmen, Blood, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Bloodlust, Drama & Romance, Eventual Smut, Execution, F/M, Falling In Love, First Love, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Infertility, Love, Missions, Non-Canon Relationship, Oblivious, One Night Stands, Original Character(s), POV Original Female Character, Past Abuse, Relationship(s), Revenge, Romance, Romantic Fluff, Scars, Sex, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Strong Female Characters, Trauma, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:22:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28390845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KimSnowyowl92/pseuds/KimSnowyowl92
Summary: The Deathman's Guild is an underground organization of skilled assassins. Lacrima, a young woman with a scar on her face that gave her the nickname "The Crying Lady", is one of them. After losing her family, this place is her home and she executes her work with pride and precision.One day, she is tasked to work together with the infamous Zoldyck family on a bigger mission. An honor in the Guild's ranks. But this means she has to work closely with Illumi, the Zoldycks' eldest son, who she is afraid of. Still, she cannot deny this mission since the Guild's members are adviced to never act against a Zoldyck's wish ...
Relationships: Hisoka (Hunter x Hunter)/Original Female Character(s), Illumi Zoldyck/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	1. View from a wolf's eye

**Author's Note:**

> Content warning: blood, gore, mentions of psychological violence, violent interactions, sexually explicit scenes, nudity, self harm, strong language.
> 
> You can find this fanfic also on Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/story/252541270-blood-and-tears-the-crying-lady-a-romantic-hunter

Darkness covered the woods in its cold silence. The wolves were still following the track of their prey. Its stench already started to fade away, but still they didn't give up their hunt. Hunger nearly overtook all of their senses, their feral instincts kept them moving on. Saliva dripped from their jaws while they already felt bones cracking between their fangs as well as the taste of fresh warm blood. A growl came out of the older one's throat. The hunt drove her mad. It was almost time that she had to bite and chew her prey … She stopped. Something wasn't right. The natural sounds of the forest at night were somehow muted. No owl's hoot, no cricket's chirp, not even the rustling of mice scampering between the trees. She felt the urge to hide and took a few hesitating steps backwards. Irritated, the younger wolf, a male one, followed her behavior. She sniffed and started growling again. Something was moving through their territory. Something she wasn't familiar with. Whatever it was, it normally didn't belong here. Slowly, she and her companion vanished more and more in the shadows while listening to the unfamiliar silence and the … strange steps of those creatures trespassing. Never had she witnessed this feeling that invaded her right now. It was beyond any kind of fear she had felt throughout her short life. Normally, she would attack, but this time, it was different. Her heart raced like crazy, she tried to calm down. And then – that unfamiliar presence was gone. The uneasy feeling had stopped. Carefully, she took a step forward again. Then another, before she and her partner continued the hunt. A few minutes later, an owl hesitantly started to hoot again.


	2. Night

The night was dark and starless. Only every now and then, the thick clouds revealed the waxing moon behind them, only to cover it again. The darkness and the silence inside the forest made the two shadows moving between the trees imperceptible. Even a trained eye would see just some flitting movement that also could be seen as a simple hallucination.   
It wasn't until they left the forest behind them, that an observer could spot the details. The first silhouette to leave the darkness of the trees behind was a tall and slender young man, still in his late teenage years, dressed in casual gray clothes, his pale face framed by chin long black hair. If there was any striking feature about him, it would have been his eyes. Two big obsidian black circles that seemed to swallow any light. His movements were swift and he didn't show any sign of exhaustion or any other emotion at all. Soon, the other figure escaped the shadows and entered the lighted area. This one was slightly smaller and of a curvier build, obviously female, all dressed in black. Her facial features were hidden by a black hood that belonged to a cloak she wore, making the scenario look like she pulled some shadows of the woods behind her. With military precision, she moved forward and increased her pace to catch up with the other.   
As she reached him with an unnatural speed, the wind created during that movement blew the hood off her head, revealing a young, porcelain white face with a small rounded nose and the luscious dark pink lips of a perfect moue. Her eyes sparkled in a vivid aquamarine blue, surrounded by long black eyelashes. A poet would have described her face as that of a doll, as absolutely flawless, if it wasn't for the scar across her left cheek, from the corner of her eye to an inch above her jawline, giving the illusion of a tear running down her face. The barren moonlight was reflected by some silvery thin metal objects that tucked her shoulder-long chestnut brown hair up to a half bun. While the other one's face was like a mask, her expression showed signs of curiosity and waggishness, her lips formed a smile as she turned her head towards her companion.  
"So, do you team up with others often?" Her voice was high pitched, nearly sounding innocent.  
The man didn't answer, he kept his eyes locked to the path in front of him.  
"Not much of a talker, huh?", she said with a slight frown and concentrated on moving forward.  
It was not until a few minutes later until he finally spoke. His low and soft voice was, like his face, without any emotion.  
"We're about to reach our destination. Are you prepared?"  
With a fluid movement, the woman grabbed one of the objects keeping her hair up, revealing that those were small throwing knives.  
"Always", she answered with a smirk.

They were nothing but two dark spots moving towards the horizon. The wall that surrounded the huge estate was already left behind them. On top of a hill, four spectators watched over the scenario. Two of them were completely silent, the other two were entangled in a conversation.  
"So, this is the girl you were talking about, Stashkow?", the first one, an elderly man, asked.  
"Exactly", the other replied. He was a tall man with a fading grayish looking hairline in his fifties, his clothes were the same kind of uniform the young woman they watched was wearing.  
"It's been a while since the Deathman's Guild sent new members to our initiation ceremonies ... Always interesting to watch them interacting with our family." The old man stroked his mustache. He seemed to be small and bent over, but his clear eyes sent a different message.  
"Sadly, most of our recruits aren't old enough, yet. And I believe a few years have to pass until I can bring the next ones here, Zeno. Not all of them are good assassin material after all."  
"How old is this one?"  
"Lacrima? She just turned twenty last winter", Stashkow answered, which caused one of the other two standing with them to grunt, the first noise for a long time. It was a sound somebody who doesn't like to waste his breath would make.  
The person was a muscular man in his late thirties or early forties, with a serious face. His cat-like blue eyes and the long mane of silvery white hair gave him the appearance of an old lion.  
"Two years older than Illumi is now", was all he said.  
This finally lead to the last figure of that group, the only woman, letting out an offended gasp.  
"Isn't that too old for your organization's standards?", she asked with an icy voice while staring at Stashkow. At least, one could assume that she stared at him since her eyes were covered by some kind of futuristic visor. Only a permanent red light coming from that device seemed to fixate him.  
"I normally would agree", the man replied. "But in her case, it's different. Most of our recruits join us at a very young age. Lacrima was eighteen when she became one of us. And she caught up fast. Believe me, giving her the chance of an initiation now is the right choice." Stashkow looked at the sky and said, more to himself than to the others: "Sometimes, hatred, pain and vengeance are the most efficient fuels to create a killer ..."

The man reached the front door of his house, impatient for feeling some warmth after all that work for his boss throughout the freezing night. Another row of worthless persons had been erased successfully. Their money was that of his boss now and, by extension, part of it belonged to him. He couldn't wait to spend it again. Of course, they hadn't been such as lucky as with their coup nearly three years ago and that had been one chance in a million. But still, the money was good. Extremely good. Who cared that they literally destroyed lives? Those people were dead now and their riches ... Were his now. Still, he sometimes missed the success of that one time his boss had managed to destroy a royal family. No survivors. It had been brilliant. He sighted. Good old days ...  
As he entered the front door and pressed the light switch, the lamp didn't turn on. A power blackout. Great. But his maid was most likely already working on that problem. Speaking of which ... He saw the flickering of a candle flame behind his half open office door. She had set up light for him there, but nowhere else? That stupid bitch! However ... He would punish her later for that. He needed to sit down now. So he walked right towards the candle light awaiting him. And as soon as he entered his office, the door slammed shut behind him. Turning around with a surprised gasp, he noticed his maid standing there, locking the door.  
"What's that about, now?", he yelled at her.  
No answer. The woman just stared at him. He didn't notice the large fixing pin coming out of her head. The blood stains on her apron stayed unperceived as well.  
"Answer me!"  
Nothing. But instead, another voice behind him started to speak. A soft female voice that was somehow in between of innocent and alluring.  
"Good evening, Sir. You might not know us, but ... We know you pretty well."  
The words belonged to a young woman dressed in black. Right behind her, someone else was standing, but the candle light was too weak to make him see any details.  
"Who are you?", he shouted  
"Oh ... That isn't of your interest anymore." He could see the smirk on her face now, as she came closer. The flame was reflected in her eyes and now she was close enough that he could see her face in all details. It somehow looked familiar, but he couldn't say why. "It is strange you know", the woman continued, "last time we met each other, both of us were pretty sure I wouldn't survive. But now ..." Her voice had become a low hiss. "I make sure that you and your boss won't have any victims again. And you're just the first on my list."  
What a naive thought! How many people had tried to avenge their losses? He hadn't counted them since they all usually ended up as corpses. How would that be any different? He grinned as he reached for the knife hidden under his jacket. This wouldn't take long. He grabbed his weapon and wielded it at the woman. Blood gushed out of her throat as she tilted backwards. Nice. That one was gone. Dumb bitch. Why had she even talked instead of attacking him right away? She must have had some kind of hero complex. Anyway, now he'd make sure she wouldn't do anything ever again. And then that silent figure behind her – how amusing that this one hadn't even helped a bit – would die next.  
Suddenly, he felt the iron grip of a hand around his wrist. Without him noticing, his maid had stepped behind him to prevent him from using his weapon again. What a strong grip! He knew his servant pretty well and normally, she wasn't that strong. Also, she had never been that silent before. It wasn't until now that he noticed the sickening stench of blood that started drying. The sticky feeling underneath his shoes. Something wasn't right.  
And then, he saw it. In the fading light of the candle, he saw a strange movement. First he thought that it was simply the blood of his victim escaping her body. Then he realized, the blood was flowing backwards. Back into her throat. Startled, he watched the skin closing, leaving nothing but a fine stripe. She coughed and slowly got up.  
"Oh dear", she hissed,"that hurt!" And with a movement, too fast to be noticed with normal eyes, she was up on her feet again, standing extremely close to him. "Do me a favor", she then said in a dangerously calm voice, "and call your puppet back. I want him to have some ... room to move."  
After a moment of confusion, the man realized she was talking to the figure in the background. There was a slight movement in the shadows and he felt his maid stepping back, releasing his hands from their death grip. It wasn't until now that he noticed he had lost his weapon. And then the realization of the word "puppet" in connection with his maid's strange behavior sunk down in his mind. He slowly turned around, but couldn't see any details. It still was too dark. The fact that this movement was a dumb decision became clear as he felt that something underneath his shoes was moving. What had felt so sticky before shifted its shape, became a living being. The stench of blood got more intense and finally, he lost his balance and fell down on the floor as if someone or something had pushed him. He uncomfortably landed on his back, one of his arms posed underneath him. The pain spreading through his body was immense. As he opened his eyes again, the woman towered above him. And ... Something else.   
It changed shape all the time and reflected the candle flame's light as if it was a liquid. A dark liquid. And then he suddenly understood why he could smell blood everywhere. As the dancing wave rose, the sound of something heavy hitting the floor was to hear ... And a hand appeared next to his face. A completely dried out hand, sticking out of the sleeve of the maid's uniform. Now he was about to piss himself.   
"So ... How shall we end it?", the strange woman's voice pierced through his ears like a splinter of glass.   
As he looked up again, he saw how that wave of blood wrapped around her hands like a snake and then moved back and forth, back and forth ... revealing the other figure in the darkness behind that lady. He felt the knife he had dropped earlier underneath his torso ... It would not be easy reaching it without moving too obviously, but it was manageable. Slowly, he shifted his hand he was still laying on until he got grip of the blade. Now he had to be fast. After all, it wasn't the first time he had been in a situation similar to this. He got up and, ignoring the pain, threw the knife with all his strength towards the person behind the woman – she would be distracted enough to look for her partner and then he would finish her off. Her eyes followed the flying blade just as he had hoped. He prepared himself to get on his feet again – and watched as the wall of blood moved again and caught the knife as if it had gotten stuck in solid flesh.  
"Oh, are we getting rebellious?", she asked and all of a sudden, the blood around her hands cleared up, vanished ... Until he saw that the woman had grown long dark claws. "Now let's see how it feels to be tortured, shall we?" With these words, she bent down and rammed her newly extended fingers into his right arm.  
As sharp as the pain was, it stopped as quickly as it had begun. It felt as if her claws were gone again. Then he felt how something in his veins started twitching. Like worms ... Snakes ... Something that was alive and that was not him mercilessly invaded his body, robbing his ability to control his own movements. What was wrong with him? What had that bitch just done? He felt the urge to vomit. That blood wave ... Her claw-like nails ... The pain ... That strange force crawled up his arm, over his shoulder, through his neck, he could feel it entering his brain ...   
All he could see now was the color red ... All he could hear was the swooshing noise of blood in his ears, it muffled what ever that woman said ... If she said anything. None of this existed anymore. Just the blood. The smell. The sound. The color. The feeling. The taste. Nothing else. Did he sit? Did he lie on the floor? He didn't know. All he knew was that his body and senses didn't obey him anymore. All he knew was he drowned in blood ... The blood of his victims ... Yes! Somehow he felt the absolute remorse he had never felt before in his entire life. He was sure that this was the payback for all the suffering he had caused ...  
Suddenly, he felt so cold. There was another feeling all of a sudden! A sharp blade, piercing his chest. But that wasn't comparable to the extraordinary pain that spread through his entire body as if something was bursting from the inside. Then it was all over. 

As the body, deformed and leaking blood from every orifice, dropped on the floor, Lacrima released an relieved sigh.  
"That was it. Number one is done." With a swift movement, she commanded her victim's and the maid's blood to merge and to compress to a small, crystal-like structure that looked like a ruby in her hand. This was actually the first time she had managed to use such a huge amount of blood to follow her commands and she was extremely proud. She almost had forgotten that this had been a test. Only the feeling of two lifeless black eyes in her back had reminded her of that. The rules had been simple. Her companion had provided her some help by using a strangely big needle to turn the maid that worked here into a puppet, but besides that he had been nothing more than an observer. His silence had been unnerving throughout the entire time. Him interfering with the whole process would have lead to her failing the initiation. And yet it was up to him if she had passed or not.  
"If I were you, I would have killed him right away. I wouldn't even have bothered to talk to him", was all that Illumi said though. "We're finished. Let's head back."  
Lacrima forced herself to look into those unnervingly black eyes that refused to reflect even the candle light. She nodded and followed him outside. The candle flame would take care of any evidence. Her heart beat uncontrollably fast while she was heading back to the location where her leader and this strange guy's family were waiting. Lacrima had done her best to be friendly towards him, but not only had he proved his family's elitist arrogance her teacher had warned her about, he also had been... creepy. The way he had looked at her. Without any emotion. As he had basically killed the maid, an innocent person who most probably had been another victim of that mission's target. Lacrima couldn't understand. Of course, they were assassins after all, but ... Killing innocents by turning them into brainless marionettes? He had thrown the needle without any hesitation and she had been clever enough to quickly shut her mouth before saying anything. "Never act against a Zoldyck's wishes!" These words had become a mantra while she had prepared herself for the initiation. She really hoped it all was over, soon. The only wish she had right now was to be no longer alone with that heartless man.

With a heavily beating heart and filled with nervousness, she followed Illumi towards his family's estate where the others were waiting. Seeing Stashkow's face, his typical expression of fatherly strictness and loving discipline again gave her a feeling of arriving at home. Of course, he behaved more distanced than usual, just as she had expected. But that was a test after all, he had to be professional. Still, Lacrima was thankful for having run into this man who had been a second father for her after ... What had happened. Next to him, the other members of that family were waiting for them. The father, the mother the grandfather, all of them stared at her while she and Illumi arrived.   
While approaching them, Lacrima tried her best to calm down her racing heart. Everything depended on the result of their judgment. It could either start or end right here, right now. And if it ended, she would most likely never get her hands on that one target she hard trained so hard for throughout the last two years. As professional as she could manage, she gave her report towards Stashkow, tried to pretend the others weren't there to muffle her nervousness. Afterwards she took a deep breath and waited.  
"Well done", her mentor said, "we will have to discuss this and will also get the detailed report your partner here has to share with us. You'll wait here."  
"Yes, Sir!", Lacrima answered loud and clearly.  
Minutes passed. Many, many minutes. Bolt upright, she stood there and waited for that final result. Why did that take them so long? What was Illumi telling them? Every single mistake she could have made? Lacrima feverishly tried to remember every single detail about the mission, failing to find anything that could have endangered it in a way that it would destroy her chance to become an official agent. That guy was most probably destroying everything right now. She had noticed how he had stared at her all the time. His dead black eyes had made her feel so extremely uneasy! It had felt as if he had looked for any possible mistake she could have done on purpose. Maybe, just maybe, he even had imagined killing her over and over. From what Lacrima had learned about the Zoldyck family, she understood that the profession of assassins was merged with every cell of their body, it was their birth right. Illumi probably didn't know anything else besides that. Somehow, she could even pity him for that. But she didn't have the right mindset for that.   
There! Finally, she spotted some figures walking towards her. Only three though it seemed. Lacrima noticed Stashkow as well as the both older men of the Zoldyck family, Illumi's father and grandfather. The mother and Illumi himself didn't show up. However. Lacrima awaited the three men and braced herself for their final judgment.

Kikyo Zoldyck observed her eldest son's behavior while he was talking. None of his automatic gestures and facial expressions escaped her sight. She listened closely to what he told her. A mixture of disbelief and anticipation invaded her mind. First, she had planned to reject her son's wish, but after what she had heard about that girl Illumi had worked with tonight, she saw a chance. A perfect chance. It would definitely be a benefit for the family.  
Illumi spoke without hesitation, tried to explain what was going on inside him towards his mother. It wasn't as simple as usual since he had no idea what it was that he felt. It had started earlier that evening when Stashkow, vice head of the Deathman's Guild, had brought his newest recruit to the Zoldycks' estate, this girl, Lacrima. It had not been the first time that Illumi had been part of the initiation's test of some new agents, but this time, it had been different. The first moment he had laid eyes on her, it had been clear there was something about her that made her absolutely compelling. Never had he seen a more beautiful pair of eyes than hers. Not only their color, but also the determination as she had looked at him for the first time. Also a hint of pain that was buried in the darkness of old memories. And her lips ... He couldn't remember ever having seen a mouth and immediately asking himself how it would feel like to touch them, to taste them ... This woman had done something to him and he couldn't tell what it was. There was only one thing Illumi was sure of: He wanted to be with Lacrima. No matter how she had done it, it was clear to him that he wanted her. All the time throughout the mission, he had watched her and not only because it had been his job to observe the murder. And then, the way she had used her power so the thrown knife wouldn't hurt him ... This woman was more than just an assassin. Illumi could not understand what he felt since he had never felt anything so intensely in his whole life. How could one explain something he had never experienced before? It had been like a stab in his heart, but the pain was so, so good ...   
As he ended, he saw a slight smirk on his mother's face.  
"Wait here. I will talk to her." And with that, she turned around and left in the same direction her husband and father-in-law had vanished before.

Lacrima took a deep breath as Stashkow opened his mouth. Everything depended on this one moment. The next sentence her mentor and boss was about to say would decide about her future – and her ability to make a change.  
"Congratulations, Agent Lacrima! You passed the initiation to be an official member of the Deathman's Guild."  
She felt the urge to jump, to laugh, to hug her mentor and even those other men that obviously had decided this way. But Lacrima knew this behavior wasn't acceptable, especially not towards any member of the Zoldyck family, so she did her best to restrain herself and kept it professional. It was a struggle to prevent her hand from shaking as she received the black badge with the insignia of the Guild: A hooded skull in front of a crossed dagger and scythe. On the backside it said: Agent Lacrima. The Crying Lady. She smirked. It was common for agents to have an official nickname. Lacrima had never cried since she had joined the Guild, in fact, she had never cried after she had received that name-giving scar on her face. She liked this very much.  
Patiently she listened to what Stashkow and those Zoldyck men had to say. It was amusing to see how they behaved like equals on one hand, but on the other hand it was more than obvious that this clan of assassins looked down on the Guild. A little infuriating to be honest, but future collaborations didn't happen too often. Tonight was most likely the first and last time Lacrima would have direct contact with the Zoldycks. So she kept quiet, avoiding any trouble for her organization.   
"With that, you are officially an agent of the Deathman's Guild. You are worthy enough of collaborating with assassins of the Zoldycks' level. You can be proud of yourself", Stashkow concluded as he turned towards the other men. "It is time for us now to head home. Silva, Zeno, it was an honor and a pleasure to work with you, as always."  
An acknowledging grunt and a somehow friendly nod were the answer. Stashkow sighed.   
"Come on now, Lacrima. We have a long way to go. After that night you will definitely need some –"  
"Wait!", a frosty and sharp voice interrupted him mid-sentence.   
As they turned around again, Lacrima spotted the figure of Lady Zoldyck rushing towards them. She couldn't stand that woman, she knew that for sure as soon as she had spotted her for the first time. Dressed like a noble woman, with that visor in front of her eyes that didn't want to fit with the rest, and surrounded by children. Lacrima remembered seeing an obese teen with a permanently pissed expressionon his face, fondling around with some kind of handheld device and most likely looking for an opportunity to head back to his room as soon as possible. Then there had been a child that she couldn't even tell if it was a boy or a girl, observing their surroundings with big violet eyes while clenching to their mother's hand. But the only kid the woman had actually paid attention to had been a little boy with big blue eyes and fluffy white hair, very similar to the family's father. Those children were first of all nothing but Zoldyck breed. And that lady was the breeding machine. While her husband's behavior had been of respectful indifference, hers had definitely shown how much she despised being in the presence of some mere Deathman's Guild members. Lacrima couldn't suppress a slight shiver. Her goosebumps intensified as Lady Zoldyck pointed at her and continued talking.  
"Come here, girl. I need to talk to you!"  
As if she was looking for help, she turned towards Stashkow. Her mentor nodded.  
"Just go, Lacrima. You know the way home by yourself, don't you?"  
"Yes, Sir!", Lacrima responded, swallowed and then followed that horrifying woman. They walked around silently for a while before the lady opened her mouth again.  
"I have an offer for you, my dear", she began with a dangerously sweet sounding voice. "And I'm quite sure you cannot say no to this..."

Illumi was waiting for over half an hour when, finally, his mother returned to him. Nobody else was with her. He could see on her face that she was displeased.  
"Mother", he began, "did you –"  
"Forget that girl", was everything she said in response before he could even finish his sentence. "Now let's get away from here. Your father and grandfather will be here, soon."  
Illumi stared at her, not knowing what to do.  
"Come on already!", she nagged, causing him to follow her.  
Later that night, Illumi wasn't able to fall asleep. Those aquamarine blue eyes were still piercing through his heart. "Forget her!" For the first time in his life, he was not able to obey an order of his mother.

Lacrima hasted through the estate's forest, only one thought left in her head: Coming back home. After leaving that giant gate which separated Zoldyck mansion from the rest of the world behind, Lacrima sighed in relief.   
"I dodged a bullet there", she said to herself. That conversation with Lady Zoldyck stuck in her head. Who did that hag think she was? She still couldn't believe what she had offered her earlier. Ridiculous! Unthinkable! That woman could not have been serious! Lacrima was glad that she actually did have the perfect reason to deny that offer without having to suffer any of the consequences. It was one of the number one rules of the Guild: Never act against a Zoldyck's wish!  
Lacrima made her way back to her home, the Deathman's Guild. The Deathman's Guild is an underground organization that is home to hundreds of bodyguards, bounty hunters and, most of all, assassins. Most of their members used to be orphans, children and teenagers without any future, living on the streets. Not everyone of them becomes a killer, but they all are trained to survive and have a better future. Also, they depend on being an ally to the Zoldyck Clan. The Guild provides members as supporters for logistically difficult missions, the family uses its influence to get more contracts to the Guild. As long as both parties help each other, they can maintain their power. And that is not to be underestimated.   
She finally arrived in the woods where she came across a natural pond with a small waterfall. Lacrima stepped behind the waterfall and touched the rocks behind the water.   
"Blood has been fed to the God of Death tonight", she whispered and the rock slid aside, leaving a gap big enough for a grown man to enter. She entered the cave and walked down a long set of stairs, down, down, into the deep. Arriving at her headquarters, she made her report about the successful mission.   
"That would be it", she sighed.  
"Lacrima, welcome back!", a voice shouted and before she could say anything, she was surrounded by so many members of the Guild, young and old, all of them congratulating her on the passed initiation. She felt so relieved. Although she had been gone for only one night, she had missed the warm friendliness of the other members of the Guild. From the very beginning, after she had lost everything, they had become her new family, no matter what. Lacrima was so glad she had them.   
A while afterwards she was finally allowed to go to bed. As she closed her eyes, she once again remembered that awkward conversation with Lady Zoldyck. At least, now she would never have to interact with that family again ...  
How wrong she was!


	3. Hunters and Tricksters (Five years later): 1

As the chimes of the morning signal rang through the whole complex of the Deathman's Guild, Lacrima was already awake. This night, she had been too nervous and after a few hours of restless sleep, she hadn't felt tired anymore. Since she had no idea what else to do, she had decided to train a little earlier than usual. Her body already burned and was covered in sweat. Lacrima stretched her muscles and looked into the mirror. Since she only wore a black sports bra and boxer briefs of the same color, her body was quite visible. She had trained extra hard for the last few days. Her muscles had grown even more over the last five years. She was satisfied to see that her body reminded of that of an amazon and no longer of the fragile girl she had been years before.   
That was besides her scars, of course. Lacrima most of the time ignored the scar on her cheek, she was so used to it, it had become part of her. Even her name was nothing but the word "teardrop". It had been her birth name as well, but in a different language. Larme ... But that was the past. There was nothing left of the person she used to be. Although ... She focused on her other scar, the bigger one. Beginning between her breasts, crawling down her whole abdominal area and ending on her mons veneris, more than an inch wide and dark compared to the rest of her skin. Her fingers ran across it and for a split second, the pain and sorrow of that day came back to her. Lacrima lifted her head and looked at the reflection of her room inthe mirror. The walls were decorated with many portraits, all hand-drawn from memory. Most of them showed a family, dressed in fine clothes. Others showed each of those persons alone. One of them looked even exactly like her, just rounder and without any scar ... Lacrima shook her head. That was the past. So she concentrated on preparing for the upcoming day.   
Today, she wouldn't be training the child recruits in weaponless combat as usual. This only happened when she was sent on a mission. But today ... It was more of a task that had to be done to climb up in the ranks of the Deathman's Guild, a position Lacrima needed if she wanted to fulfill her wish to kill that man who had lead her to all her suffering. She had trained hard to become an executioner, meaning she would take care of felon targets. Corrupt politicians, slave traders, rapists ... That was what Lacrima was going for. But there was one condition she had to fulfill to be able to roam freely and do her work everywhere legally: She had to become a Hunter. Stashkow and the Head of the Guild had agreed on Lacrima being skilled enough now to go and participate in the exam. Today, she would leave.  
After a quick shower, she put on her uniform: Dark gray tight pants, a long-sleeved shirt of the same color, as well as a knee-long black lace skirt, a corset-like black waist coat, black gloves with cut-off fingertips, black leather boots. Next up came the belt with her two trusty daggers, long and thin blades, razor sharp and ready to taste blood. She tested the hidden switches in her boots, resulting in one sharp dagger blade sliding out of their tips. Perfect. After the blades were inside their hidden pockets again, Lacrima looked into the mirror and grabbed her brush. Her hair had grown during the last years and was now only one or two inches above her waist. Still it was messy as soon as she wore it down for more than a few minutes, so she most of the time wore it in a bun. While she carefully placed her six throwing knives that always held up her hairdo, she heard a knock at her door.  
As she opened it, Lacrima was greeted by a blonde woman who was a few inches bigger than her. She was slim but yet of a curvy build, her uniform fit tightly around her body and had a wide cleavage. Her hair was braided to pigtails which fell down her shoulders and framed her rather opulent breasts. A wide and honest grin made her cheeks look even more rosy and caused her bright green eyes to shine. Lacrima smiled back since this visitor was more than welcome in her quarters. Maria, her best friend in the Guild. She was two years older than her and had taken care ofher as soon as Lacrima had joined the organization. Like a big sister she had been by her side, and even seven years later, she still saw it as her personal duty to look after Lacrima at least once per day.  
"Leaving early today, Lacri?" Maria's voice sounded upbeat and enthusiastic as always while she entered Lacrima's room.  
"I'm just following your suggestion. You said finding the starting location was tricky when you did your exam, so ..." Lacrima fondled with her throwing knives until they were arranged in a way that they looked like a small silver halo. "I thought being a week ahead would be enough time."  
"A reasonable decision", Maria responded. "I wanted to say goodbye before you leave."  
"You think I would have left without telling you?", Lacrima said with a jokingly insulted voice and pouted. They both laughed.  
"Of course not! I just want to wish you all the luck you can get." Maria placed a hand on Lacrima's shoulder and looked her straight in the eyes. "I know you'll come back a Hunter. Don't prove me wrong, make me proud." They hugged each other tightly. "Also", Lacrima could hear the other woman's voice in her ear, "maybe you'll meet a cute guy there ..."  
She answered with an annoyed sigh. Not that topic again ...  
"It doesn't have to be a man, you know ... Whatever you prefer." Maria's jade eyes sparkled in a wild fire as she looked at her friend again. "You know ... I could help you out as well, right?"  
"Stop that!", Lacrima said harshly and took a step back, ending the embrace. She rolled her eyes. Maria was of an excruciatingly sexual nature. She didn't shy away from any topic that Lacrima would describe as too intimate or private to talk about with others. It was somehow fitting though. Maria was specialized on killing her victims during sex. She knew how to poison men as well as women with seemingly harmless intimate encounters. She nearly always carried some flasks with powerful venom around with her, just in case. Because of her openness to the topic of sex, Maria always tried to get her best friend "back into the game", as she always said. It wasn't the first time she had offered her to be her sexual partner, but that was something Lacrima didn't feel comfortable with. She saw Maria as a sister, nothing more. Everything above that would ruin their friendship, she was sure of that. Of course, Lacrima knew that her friend only wanted to comfort her and make her move on after that terrible last relationship she had in the past, but she still didn't feel ready for that.  
The joy she had felt when she had sex back then was nothing in comparison to the pain and sorrow the result of that had lead to. Automatically, she let her fingers run across her stomach, where her bigger scar was carved into her skin. Still now, after all those years, the memory hurt too much.   
"You know perfectly why I can't even think about that, Maria."  
"Yeah, I know", the blonde woman sighed. "I'm sorry. But ...Maybe ..." She shook her head. "You're right. So, when will you leave today?"  
"Right after breakfast, I guess. I have everything I need. The boss already knows, so there won't be anything else for me to do today." Absorbed in thought, Lacrima cracked her knuckles. "This will be an exhausting journey. And the exam itself ... Honestly, I am a little nervous."  
"You will be fine. With your skills, you can do this quite easily. Just promise me one thing," Maria said in a serious tone. "Don't die during the exam. If you do, I'll find a way to resurrect you and kill you again, got it? I worked too much to help you becoming the person you are now."  
"Promised", Lacrima chuckled while reaching for her black cloak. 

As she left the entrance of the Guild's headquarters behind, Lacrima felt a little melancholy. She took a deep breath and hurried on in order to find her destination. One week until the exam. She wanted to make sure that was enough time.   
A few days later, she arrived at the right location. Not many people were there as she could see. A small, green-faced man handed her a numbered badge she should wear throughout the exam. It was a boring process to wait until the event would start. Lacrima sighed and thought about the way she had taken. It had been quite a journey for sure, she even had believed she wouldn't make it in time. Now she had arrived early and yet, hundreds of people from different places of the Earth, men, women, young and old, everyone with their own special abilities, had yet to arrive. Lacrima wrapped herself in her cloak and pulled her hood deeper into her face. It was more comforting that way. She was in some kind of underground cave, but it had nothing in common with the caverns ofthe Guild. She pressed herself against the dark gray wall, nearly completely camouflaged. Out of boredom, she started checking the auras of the people around her. Many of them obviously didn't know anything about their potential, so on first glance, most of them were weak. If one on one combat would be part of the exam, she would most likely win against most of them ...  
No challenge, but on the other hand, also ...No threat ... Still, she was a little disappointed.  
There! Lacrima excitedly lifted her head. There was somebody. A young man about her age ... Surely she would have noticed him without looking for strong auras as well since his appearance was quite ... unique. He was dressed in awfully bright colors, in a suit that most likely a jester or circus clown would wear, decorated with playing card symbols. It looked awful. But that was nothing compared to the probably most hideous shoes this man could have chosen to match this silly outfit. Also, he had obviously taken his precious morning time to make his raspberry red hair stand up in some kind of spiky waves. Lacrima was actually glad that his back was turned towards her so she didn't have to hide the grin that invaded her face. What a ridiculous view!  
On a second view she noticed his muscular arms. She also noticed the thick strings of muscles on his back, pressing against the cloth of his shirt. Lacrima couldn't help but appreciate that view. Those muscles were the result of years of hard training, beautifully shaped underneath his milky white skin, toned enough to look like being made of marble.   
At this moment, he turned around. – Was this guy serious? He wore makeup, a bright yellow star on his right and a shocking pink teardrop on his left cheek. It looked familiar. Lacrima could have sworn she had seen those symbols once on the wrapping of some chewing gum the children she trained in the Guild liked so much. She lifted her hand and touched her own left cheek. She felt the scar, rough compared to the rest of her skin. Running down her cheek like a tear.   
She then tried to take a closer look at his face. And again she felt some kind of shock.  
His face! If one ignored that stupid jester attire ... This man was beautiful! Not only his muscles, not his white skin or his red hair ... His nose and chin were shaped precisely and sharp, in a way she had only seen in a museum, when she had looked at the statues of ancient Gods. She was quite sure this man resembled a statue of Narcissus, a man who according to myths lost his life because he loved himself more than anything else and was enchanted by his own beauty. A pair of gorgeous eyes, as yellow as amber, made contact with hers, as the man noticed being watched.  
Lacrima had to swallow. Those two eyes pierced through her. Suddenly she felt some kind of exposed and her arms automatically moved up to cover her chest. She stopped and crossed them instead. How stupid did she look? She wore clothes, there was no need of covering up. Of course, that guy noticed, he gave her a big smirk. Lacrima felt strange. Actually, she felt a bit ashamed, and this feeling increased as she noticed that he started moving towards her.   
Lacrima feverishly tried to think of something to say to him. Why was she so extremely nervous all of a sudden? Why did that guy walk towards her? What did he want? Was it curiosity? Would he attack her? She didn't know. There was something about his aura. Something extremely different but very familiar at the same time, she also noticed that people seemed to avoid him. She took a deep breath and silently counted to ten. On four he was already halfway there. On eight, they were only a few steps apart. On ten she could hear his breath.   
Lacrima looked up at him, smiled and simply said:  
"Nice make up, jester", and with the movement of her hand, she took off her hood, revealing her scarred face. "Didn't know I had a fan."   
The man smirked even more. There was some kind of mischief glistening in his eyes.   
"Well, how peculiar. It looks like I found a match." His voice was so soft, Lacrima actually got goosebumps listening to it. He continued: "That scar seems a little extreme to be honest, only to have something in common. A beautiful lady shouldn't have to be harmed in the name of beauty." He made a playfully worried face and Lacrima felt reminded of her conversations with Maria.   
One wavelength. Now she knew what she had felt when checking him earlier. Kinship. That was about his aura that she had noticed. He wasn't just strong. He was a killer. Up to the challenge. And he obviously seemed to share her kind of humor.   
"By the way ... I prefer the term magician instead of jester", he continued after a few seconds.  
"Oh", Lacrima replied with the smoothest voice she could make. "So you're a trickster then –"   
"ATTENTION! PARTICIPANTS, ATTENTION!", a voice called and immediately everyone turned towards it.   
The exam started.   
Conversation ended.


	4. Hunters and Tricksters: 2

The exam had taken place for a longer time now. Many participants were already selected out, disqualified or dead. For some, the tasks had been too dangerous or difficult. And some of them happened to be actually some of Lacrima's targets she hadn't expected to be here, which made it easier to do her work. Most of them had been easy to kill, and she had no idea how those had even made it to the exam's starting location. And all the time there were people who underestimated her for being female. Killing those was like an extra snack.

She had also noticed that Hisoka – that was the mysterious so-called magician's name as she learned with time – had gone on a killing spree. On the surface it looked like he fought anyone or anything that moved. On a second view it was clear he only chased those with a higher potential. He played his own sick little selection game with the other participants. Lacrima was nervous. Something told her that sooner or later he would start chasing her. That was something she didn't feel good about. They hadn't talked ever since their first encounter before the exam had begun, as soon as the examiner had called for the participants, she had turned and walked towards him, leaving the trickster behind. To Lacrima, he was just one of many other participants. No ally, that was clear. He was dangerous. She avoided him as much as she could since she didn't want him to be an enemy at all cost. Lacrima didn't want to fight Hisoka since she somehow knew she would lose. She didn't want to die. But somehow, she didn't want to kill him either. Whenever she crossed his path, she felt ...She felt the need to be around him. It was strange. Whenever Hisoka was close, Lacrima caught herself watching him. Not in a cautious manner, more of a ... Yearning. A longing that made her heart beat faster whenever she saw him or heard his voice. The horror increased as soon as she noticed that.

What the hell is wrong with me?

Now, less than a hundred participants were left. This part of the exam was another elimination game. They had to spend four days in a secluded area of the woods, bordered by a torrential river in the east and an abrupt canyon in the west, as well as by huge electric fences in the north and south. Their task was simple: to survive. Each participant was given a collection of items they should keep with them until the end of the task. None of the collections were complete, so they had to either try to steal the missing items from somebody else or find them in some randomly scattered hideouts. To make things more difficult, the examiners had arranged traps throughout the whole area, like pitfalls, poisoned water and angrywild beasts. Well-trained senses, instincts and common knowledge of survival were essential to pass this part of the exam.

They had already been in the wilderness for three days. Lacrima had all the items she needed and spent most of the time left to wander around the woods and enjoy the quiet atmosphere. Right now, she sat by the river, watching the rushing water and the fish that sometimes swam inside. She sighed. Why couldn't all the tests be so peaceful? In this area, there was just her, the forces of nature and her own thoughts. It was just boring. Lacrima sighed, puffed her cheeks and blew a strand of hair that got loose off her face. Actually, she couldn't wait for the nextday to start since she wanted to progress, pass, get her license and go back home ...

Her thoughts wandering off were immediately stopped as she heard steps. Six feet at least, tapping through the fallen leaves and branches, producing a slight crunching sound. Who ever came there, didn't even try to be quiet. She could hear whispers.

"Look! Another idiot just sitting there!"

"Not any idiot, guys!It's that one girl! Let's see if she has what we need ... Or if she can give us even more."

The way the man had said the last sentence didn't leave much to Lacrima's imagination, she was quite sure she knew what those thought they could do to her. Still having her back turned towards them and starting to undo her hair, a smirk developed on her face. She had found something to kill her time with.

When they got close to her, Lacrima flinched, pretending to hear them just now, then turned towards them, faking a surprised expression. A convincing gasp left her lips as the man leading the trio approached her.

"Well, well, well ... I think you know pretty sure why we are here. Hand over your items and if you are nice to us, we won't hurt you. What do you think?" The other men giggled, giving her lewd looks from head to toe. Lacrima's expression went from shocked to ashamed and she stared at her feet. Slowly, she walked towards the grinning men, clutching the throwing knives she hid in her hands.

"P-please ... don't harm me", she stammered while stepping closer. The leader held out a hand, a vicious smile invaded his face.

"Good girl", he said. The tone of his voice remembered Lacrima of another moment in her life where words like these had been spoken to her ... 

"Good girl!" His cold powder blue eyeswandered across her body while she undressed. With a flapping sound, the long skirt fell onto the floor.

"Are ... Are you sure we should do this?", she whispered hesitantly, only wearing her underwear now. "Isn't that too early? I mean ..." A slender finger shushed her before she could continue speaking.

"It's fine, dear. I mean, in six months from now on, I'll be your husband anyways. So why shouldn't we do it right now? Just a little practice for the future..."

She stared at him. Sure, this was the man she loved, but somehow that didn't feel right. All her life, she had been told to wait until she was married. But here he stood, tall, naked and beautiful. And Larme felt something strange in her guts. She wanted to be close to him, but ... She was ashamed of her body. She wasn't the ideal woman a man would expect tosleep with. As if he knew what she was thinking, he continued:

"You won't be as round anymore with me by your side. I'll be in charge of your diet and then, you won't be just pretty, you will be gorgeous. Just as I deserve."

Larme looked at her feet, not sure what to say. He meant well, for sure, but the words he had used hurt ... It was fine, it was completely fine, he didn't mean it like that.

"Good girl", he later whispered in her ear when he was on top of her. "How does it feel?"

"It hurts", she whispered, squeezing her eyes shut so he couldn't see her tears.

"That's normal. Once you get used to it, you will like it ..."

Before the man could say anything further, a heavy leather boot slammed against his crotch. A suppressed squeal escaped his mouth and he started slumping down.

Click.

His face became extremely pale. With a scraping sound, Lacrima pulled her foot away from the man, and a long blade covered in blood became visible. He dropped on his knees, whimpering. With another kick, she slit his throat. Another clicking sound, and the blade disappeared inside her boot again.

Lacrima then threw all her knives at the other men who were startled about the scene they just witnessed. Three blades pierced one man's eyes and throat. With a gargling moan, he slumped down, dead. The other one was quicker and could jump out of the way, but the knives still hit his arm and leg. Without any hesitation, Lacrima grabbed her daggers and ran towards him. His face went pale when he saw how fast she was. He tried to escape the two blades she held like a huge pair of scissors ... And a playing card hit his forehead, making him slump to the ground like a puppet with cut strings.

What the ...?

Lacrima turned around, daggers still in both hands. There he stood. Hisoka. Still an amused smirk on his face while fondling with another card in his hand.

"Oh my, did I bother you?", he said in a flirty tone.

She slowly raised her daggers, looking straight towards him, trying not to miss any detail that could imply he was attacking her. But somehow it was just too hard not to focus on his beauty. His shirt was torn in the front, revealing parts of his muscular torso. Lacrima swallowed, looked him straight in the eyes and asked:

"What do you want?"

The trickster grinned mischievously.

"Oh, nothing at all, I was just passing by and it looked like you were having fun all on your own, so I wanted to join."

"Well, thanks for the help, but not necessary. You literally stole my kill there."

"Oh. Then I am sorry", he said with a face and tone that emphasized he wasn't at all. He still didn't move to go away.

"Is there anything else you want?", Lacrima asked in an angrier tone now.

"Hmm ..." Hisoka playfully placed one slender finger on his chin and looked upwards as if he was seriously thinking about that question. "Now that you ask ... I am here to pass this task right now. And ...", he raised his arm to show Lacrima something he was holding, "it seems like I found what I needed!"

Lacrima's heart sunk when she recognized the item dangling from his fingers. She moved her hand towards her hip where a small pouch always had been. It was gone. That bastard most likely thought it contained the items she collected for the exam were inside, so he had stolen it while she had been distracted by the fight ... Hisoka killing her target had been nothing but a distraction! Fucking asshole! First, she was shocked about that she had lost her stuff. Then, another thought came to her mind.

How?

He was still at least thirty feet away from her and hadn't touched her. How could he have gotten her pouch? Of course, the items he was looking for were not inside, but something else. Something absolutely important to Lacrima and she always carried that with her as a memory as well as a lucky charm. And now, Hisoka had what Lacrima considered to be her personal treasure. She had no idea what he would do to them when he found out they weren't what he was looking for. And Lacrima didn't want him to find out.

"Give it back!", she yelled at him before she could even finish her thoughts.

Hisoka tilted his head and grinned.

"I don't think so, honey."

Him giving her a pet name like that, in that teasing and annoying tone made her even more furious. Her voice shook aggressively when she repeated:

"GIVE THAT BACK!"

"Well", the magician cooed with a smirk while playing with the pouch in his hand, "if you want to have it back so badly, you will have to get it yourself."

Lacrima didn't hesitate at all. Her blood rushed through her veins, giving her the extra power she needed to run towards her new enemy. Everything in her view was covered by a red veil of pure wrath. There was only one mission in her mind: Destroy.

Hisoka didn't even try to run away or move at least an inch. He just stood there, an amused smirk on his face, and as Lacrima reached him, he snatched the pouch away as soon as she tried to grab it.

"Well, that's impressive, but not good enough, is it?", he said in the tone of a lecturing teacher which pissed Lacrima off.

She attacked him again, he simply sidestepped.

"It seems I've overestimated you", he chuckled. "Seems you're not ready, yet. Very disappointing, that's just a waste of –"

His words were cut off by Lacrima's fist hitting his stomach. She felt his body bend and grabbed the pouch. Ready to sprint away, she realized that the sound he was making was none of pain or shock. What escaped his throat was a long, lusty moan that sent a shiver down her spine. Now she understood his act of provocation and felt extremely disturbed. Yes, she had noticed that Hisoka was looking for a challenge. But she had expected him to be more like her on that side. Instead she understood now that this specifically meant one particular thing for him: Sexual arousal. His friendliness from before, his open words at the beginning of the exam ... All facade. He most likely had checked her in the same way she had done with the other participants.

No matter what Lacrima would do to him, he would most probably like it. And then, another realization crossed her mind:

He won't let me go that easily!

With that in her mind, Lacrima decided to run as quickly as possible to escape him. She heard Hisoka chuckle behind her, but no steps sofar. And then, suddenly, she felt a sudden drag and was jerked back to the direction Hisoka stood. As she turned around, she saw how he viciously smiled while pointing with a finger at her.

What the actual fuck?

Lacrima decided to take a closer look. And then realized. Now she knew how he had gotten her pouch earlier. A string of his aura reached from his finger tip to her torso, and the end on her side seemed to stick in place. There was no escape. He wouldn't let go off her. She had to fight.

As she concentrated to direct her blood into her muscles, Lacrima felt an empty and weak response. She tried again. Barely anything. Then she realized how long it had been since she had eaten something for the last time. All her energy reserves had been used during her fight before.

Shit!

Lacrima was still not a wimp, but still she had seen how strong Hisoka actually was. Without her ability, she could survive a fight like that for a short time, but honestly, even seven years of hard training couldn't make her invincible. And that guy was a murderer. Not an assassin like her. He didn't use a strategy. He just killed for the fun of it. And she would most likely not survive.

Now she faced Hisoka who gave the string between them another jerk so Lacrima flew towards him. This time however she knew what was goingon and acted quickly. Mid-flight she buttoned open her waistcoat and jumped out of it. Luckily, that was the only thing Hisoka dragged towards him now. She jumped to the next tree and rammed the blades ofher daggers into the wood, holding on the grips, so she kept stuck in place.

Hisoka gave her an amused smile.

"Clever girl", he said with a chuckle.

"Stupid girl", the blonde man with the knife towering above her said with a diabolic grin, madness in his powder blue eyes. "You really thought I loved you? I can tell you what I love. Money. And for that ... Well, I have to get rid of some nasty things. Every single connection with them. Let's start with the biggest nuisance right here ..."

The pain in her abdominal area spread through her whole torso, it was enormous. But she was already too weak so scream in pain ...

A card flew towards her and missed her only by a few inches.

Now she realized that her throwing knives were still stuck in her victims' bodies.

Shit!

All she had was her daggers, the blades in her boots and her fading body strength. The next card whistled towards her and this time, Lacrima only didn't get hit because she managed to pull one of her daggers out of the tree again and hit it hard enough that its flight path got turned.

Lacrima decided to attack. With a loud cracking noise, she tore out the other dagger and ran towards Hisoka, jumping behind every tree that was between them in order to make it harder for him to hit or trap her again.

He was playing with her, that was obvious. She should know – she usually played with her victims as well. For a second, Lacrima thought about throwing one of her daggers at him. But those were heavier than her knives and with most of her power gone, there was no guarantee she would hit him. And even if – yes, right, give him another weapon while you're already in disadvantage!

All she could do right now was to attack, hopefully hit him hard enough to disable him for a short amount of time and then run for it. As weakened as she was, Lacrima knew she could not kill him. At least, that was what a tiny voice in her head told her while another one insisted on the fact that she did not want to kill Hisoka. And if that was really the case, she didn't know why. All she knew was: He was here, he was deadly and he had chosen her as a target. There was only one option: survive.

Lacrima pounced at Hisoka, trying to use the full impact to knock him down. But then, a terrible jerk ran through her arms, her hands hurt so much they automatically opened, letting go of her daggers. The sudden motion caused her to stumble and fall.

That asshole!

With a smile, Hisoka swung her weapons back and forth while they were dangling from two invisible strings connected to his index finger. So much about not giving him another weapon ... But instead of using them on his own, Hisoka simply dropped the daggers and a card that he had held in the other hand just vanished with a flicking movement of his fingers.

"You know, weapons are a neat thing to use, but sometimes, fists say more."

Lacrima had barely gotten back on her feet again as he already jumped towards her and his fist planted itself in her face. The taste of blood, an explosion of stars before her eyes and sudden pain were all she could perceive for a moment. She came back right in time to block his next blow, and with a turning movement, she rammed her fist against his cheek. Hisoka tumbled a little backwards which gave her time to kick him. The impact was powerful, but at the same time Lacrima realized how fast her energy decreased.

Shit! Not now!

Hisoka let a sigh escape from his lips that almost sounded like a moan.

"Not ... bad ... But you're not there yet, are you?"

Lacrima had no idea what he meant and was conflicted by her feelings which were a mix of disgust and fascination.

What's wrong with that guy? And why do I still not want to kill him?

Another jerk just went through her body when he suddenly pulled her towards him again. Damn! When had he connected that string of energy with her again? Another blow hit her in the guts and Lacrima felt like a rag doll being tossed around. There was nothing left she could do ...

"Are we giving up already?", Lacrima heard Hisoka say from far,far away ...

And then, she heard Maria's voice in her head ...

"Remember, whenever you need to survive, there are no rules attached to how to finish your opponent. If they play dirty, you have every right to play dirty, too."

"What do you mean?",Lacrima remembered asking her friend.

"Oh", Maria had grinned mischievously, "there is a reason why I use sex to finish my targets ..."

"I can't do that!"

"Don't worry, youdon't have to. There are simple gestures that will distract them enough to not see your final hit coming ..."

Lacrima flew towards Hisoka, but now she knew what to do.

Collecting her last resources of energy, she avoided his fist, grabbed his shoulders and kissed him right on the mouth.

His lips ... So ... Soft ...

The distraction worked. Hisoka's movements stopped for a split second, but that was all Lacrima needed to tilt her head back, and, with all her strength, smack her forehead against his face. Again. And again. Finally, she felt his warm blood, heard the satisfying noise of breaking bones. Pale and with a look of disbelief, blood running from his broken nose, Hisoka passed out. Lacrima landed hard on top of him, panting. Then she got up and hurried to collect her daggers and knives, made sure she had her exam items and personal possessions. And then, using the last tiny bit of her powers she had left to run away, as far as possible before he would wake up again – if he had survived. Lacrima didn't take her time to check that.

It started to get dark when Lacrima found herself on the thick branch of a giant tree, consuming some of her survival rations she had collected throughout the last few days. It wasn't much, but she slowly felt her power come back to her. This day had been so exhausting ... She needed some rest ... Carefully, she opened the pouch Hisoka had taken from her earlier and examined the items inside. The most important things were still there: One was an old silver necklace with blue crystals. A beautiful pieceof jewelry, but it was damaged and could not be worn anymore. The biggest crystal was actually a locket pendant which Lacrima opened with tender caution. Inside were two tiny pictures. One showed the portrait of a middle-aged couple in fine clothes. The other one showed four younger people: two little girls around five or six maybe, a young man, maybe in his early twenties, sitting in a wheelchair ... And a plump teenage girl, maybe sixteen. Long brown hair fell down her shoulders and framed her round face. There was no scar on her face, but the big blue eyes hadn't changed in all those years. Lacrima sighed, closed the locket and pressed it for a second against her chest before putting the jewelry back inside. The next thing was a small flat box. Inside was an ultrasound picture of a baby in a womb. The fetus was tiny, but one could already see the head, feet and arms. On the backside, there were words written with a ball pen: "It's a girl!" All was still in place it seemed. Her biggest treasures were still there. Those that remembered her of her happiest times and those that were ... her darkest ones.

Lacrima gently put everything back where it belonged and then closed her eyes. At least she would make it through the exam, even though ... Hisoka didn't completely leave her mind. She had survived a fightagainst that psycho today ... And she had kissed him ... The first time in years that her lips had touched those of a man ... A handsome man ... A dangerous man ... With beautiful eyes and a body to die for...

That night Lacrima couldn't sleep. Whenever she closed her eyes, she saw his eyes, his beautiful piercing amber eyes, digging deep into her soul. It made her angry. Why couldn't she forget about that guy who dressed like he came straight from the circus? He was good looking, for sure, but where he was, death wasn't far away. Of course, Lacrima herself was nothing but a killer, but Hisoka ... He was different. It was only pure luck that she had survived that encounter. He had shown her his true face. Hisoka was nothing but a pervert. Still, she had a feeling when she thought of him that was familiar although many years had passed since she had felt them for the last time.

Arousal. As soon as her lips had touched his in order to distract him, she had felt it run through her whole body, like a shock of electricity ... Lacrima couldn't deny it. She wanted Hisoka, she lusted for him. All she could think of was being pushed down on a silken bed and fucked senseless by him. On the other hand, she still wanted do forget about him since ... Who knew what would have happened if she had lost that fight? He would have killed her. She was certain he didn't have any sexual interest in her. Still, a side of her didn't stop fantasizing about what that man could do to her after a late night drink, in a dirty motel room ... Telling her she should try her luck with him as soon as the exam was over. It was as if she had an argument with herself:

– Why won't you just give in? It's normal!

– I don't want to. You know what happened the last time.

– The last time made you infertile, remember? You can't get pregnant, so ...

– I refuse to be that vulnerable in front of anyone ever again!

– What could go wrong?

– I don't want to fall in love and be hurt again.

– Of course this will hurt. You haven't been busy for seven years now. But maybe you will like the pain if he slams his big, fat dick inside you ...

– He will hurt my feelings ... He tried to kill me. He'll try again. And still, I think I have feelings ...

– Silly girl! You aren't in love with him. You are horny. You have been horny since you laid eyes on those muscles. You want to touch those hard abs ans then make sweet sweet love to him, don't you?

– I won't!

– Aw, you will. If you didn't have any self control, you would have begged him to fuck you right here, right now ...

– Shut up!

– ... And you would have enjoyed every second of it, moaned like a lunatic ...

– SHUT UP!!!

Lacrima took one of her daggers and slammed it through her left hand. The pain was relieving. The red drops coming out of her white skin, illuminated by the pale moon light, were beautiful to look at. She felt how underneath her skin the rest of her blood built a barrier to close the wound. Blood Curse. Her ability. The power to control blood, be it in her own body to push herself over her limits, to heal herself or used on others to control any single movement of them ... So trustful. So effective. She was relieved from her dark thoughts and finally fell asleep.

Deep, deep in her slumber, a part of her started asking: "Will I ever taste his lips again?"


End file.
